


giant flame santas on eight-legged horses, oh my!

by Skyuni123



Series: 17 (should have been 25 but i messed up) Days of a Self-Flagellating Christmas [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Dinner, Crime Fighting, Gen, Humor, Santa Claus - Freeform, Team as Family, set after avengers but before age of ultron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 06:31:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12929511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyuni123/pseuds/Skyuni123
Summary: The Avengers and an ...unconventional Christmas dinner.





	giant flame santas on eight-legged horses, oh my!

**Author's Note:**

> prompt was 'santa'

A magnificent Christmas tree? $710.

Presents? $10,000.

Some of the finest wines of significant vintage? $25,000.

Santa Claus riding an eight-legged horse with flames coming out of its nostrils? Priceless.

 

It’s the 25th of December, and the  _ real live  _ Santa has just interrupted the Avengers’ Christmas dinner. 

 

Tony’s not sure whether to grin in glee or scramble for his suit.

Considering that Santa-on-a-horse is bearing down at their table, axe held high, he goes for both. 

 

Everyone else scrambles away from the table barring Thor, who mumbles around the turkey leg in his mouth, “( _ Something that is probably the Asgardian word for Santa-on-a-horse),  _ why have you come to our table?”

His words don’t seem to halt Santa-on-a-horse, but at least the guy seems to know him.

 

Clint, who has retrieved his bow and arrows from  _ somewhere  _ yells, “Thor, you know this guy?!” He draws an arrow and lets it fly, then watches in horror as it bounces off the horse’s chest. 

The horse that has now made its way  _ through  _ their table and is continuing to head straight for them.

 

Thor sits in the ruins of the table, looking remarkably nonplussed. “Of course, brother Barton! He is my father.”

 

Tony’s pretty sure that’s not how the Norse pantheon works, but he doesn’t have time to argue as he fires off a repulsor blast at the horse.

It bounces off. It’s not  _ supposed  _ to bounce off. The repulsor blasts are pure energy, for fuck’s sake.

 

“Would you mind asking your father to  _ stand down?”  _ Steve says, tersely, from the other side of the table. The Santa guy is managing to chase them all around the room while simultaneously tossing flaming knives at Steve.

“Well, he’s not  _ really  _ my father,” Thor begins, “more of an entity willed into existence by humans who  _ used to  _ believe in my father and -”

“Thor, as much as I appreciate the lore history,” Bruce, who somehow hasn’t managed to hulk out and is instead hiding in an alcove near the edge of the table. “Can you stop him?” 

 

Natasha runs towards Steve, ready to leap onto his shield and be catapulted towards the Santa-guy-on-a-horse, but before she does Thor rolls his eyes and yells, “ ( _ Something that is most definitely not in English and although Tony does speak a bit of French because of a dalliance he had with a guy in college it’s definitely not that),”  _ and the Santa-guy-on-a-horse freezes.

He turns towards Thor, flames still floating around him, and speaks. His voice sounds like nails being drawn over a cheese grater, with a hint of ancient-cigarette smoker. “( _ Not-English, with a hint of a question?)” _

Thor responds. “ _ (Not-English, but clearly a threat.)” _

Flame-Santa, “ _ (Not-English, rather offended.)” _

Thor, “ _ (Not-English, very conciliatory.)” _

 

The giant flame Santa seems immensely put out all of a sudden. He sighs once, and then he and his horse vanish into thin air.

 

Bruce emerges from the wall and says, “Um. What was that?”

“Misunderstanding.” Thor explains, laughing heartily, “Jólnir thought that we were-” His laughter cuts off the end of his sentence and he says nothing else, instead choosing to continue to chow down on the turkey leg once more.

“Buzzkill.” Tony steps out of the suit and looks around the dining room mournfully. “I liked that table. I’ll have to get another one made. JARVIS, can we get another one of those, what was it -”

“Cherry wood, sir.” JARVIS says, with something like a sigh.

“Thanks man.” Tony turns to the assembled group of his friends (minus Thor), who are staring at him with something akin to horror. “I know that was a bit of a dent in our proceedings, but I can order in- What?” 

 

“Tony.” Natasha begins slowly, “The room’s on  _ fire. _ ”

 

He wheels around again. Oh. Yes it is. Flames are licking up the walls as they speak. “JARVIS! Sprinklers!”

“I thought you’d never ask, sir.” JARVIS replies, about as dryly as an AI can.

  
  


They go out for Italian food instead. 

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on the [ tumbs ](http://villainousfilmmaker.tumblr.com)


End file.
